Thursday, March 13, 2014

A Drink of Water

Here’s a curious tale from the Army of the Potomac. For
me, it began three years ago, back when I discovered an unusual little document
nestled away in the Delaware Public Archives. It told the tale of a Civil War
romance, yet it had no proper nouns at all. At first, it seemed as if I might
never know who it involved, but after some sleuthing, I put the story together.
I found the names of the characters, I uncovered some context, and most importantly, I found some meaning in this document.This tale is all about the consequences that resulted when a Union soldier drank
some water.

On July 2, 1863, the Union 6th Corps trudged through
Westminster, Maryland, on its way to join the Army of the Potomac near
Gettysburg. It was a hot day, but some of the soldiers managed to enjoy themselves
because pretty girls lined the streets of the city. The ladies were busy
handing out water, not unlike spectators at a marathon. For many of the sweaty
soldiers, it was the first time they had seen a friendly female face since 1861.

One of those handing out water that day was
twenty-six-year-old Mary Elizabeth “Lizzie” Shriver, the eldest daughter of
Francis Shriver, the former mayor of Westminster. (For those interested, Francis Shriver later
earned fame for having grabbed a gun and fought at the Battle of Westminster
alongside the 1st Delaware Cavalry on June 29, 1863. He became known as the “John
Burns” of Westminster. I’m sure my GNMP friends will like that one.) Lizzie
Shriver handed a cup of water to a soldier in the 6th Maine,
Sergeant William Sheahen. It’s not clear what happened, exactly, but it seems
that Sheahen paused to talk to her. The two youngsters hit it off and before
Sheahen fell back in line, the young bluecoat had her address. As he marched
off, he promised to write to her.

For the next four months, William and Lizzie wrote letters
as if they were sweethearts. Sadly, the war ended their budding romance. On
November 7, 1863, the 6th Maine led an attack against the
Confederate-held position at Rappahannock Station. At the end of the battle,
the 6th Maine counted thirty-eight dead, among them, Sergeant
Sheahen.

What happened next is not clear either. It seems that
Lizzie’s letters—the ones that William carried in his knapsack—got
sent to his younger brother, John Parris Sheahen, who was then serving in
Company K, 1st Maine Cavalry. When the letters arrived, John Sheahen
discovered that his brother had been writing to a girl, apparently keeping her
existence a secret. John decided to write to her to let her know that William
had been killed. Then, in February 1864, while his regiment was encamped at
Warrenton, John Sheahen took leave to visit Lizzie Shriver at Westminster,
presumably to console her. While there, he and Lizzie fell in love, and when he
returned to his regimental encampment, he wrote to his parents to inform them
he was now engaged to “that girl I told you about.” However, John vowed not
to marry her until he had finished school, which meant waiting at least four years.
Of course, this required the war to end that year, and as events transpired,
the war refused to cooperate.

In March 1864, John P. Sheahen received a commission to the
rank of first lieutenant, Company E, 31st Maine. He joined his new
regiment and fought with it—and with the rest of the Army of the Potomac—throughout
the Overland Campaign. On July 30, 1864,
Confederate forces captured him at the Battle of the Crater. Sheahen spent the
next few months incarcerated at Richland Jail in Columbia, South Carolina. In
1865, with the help of slaves, he and another officer (one from the 145th
Pennsylvania) escaped Richland and after a harrowing flight through swamps, they made it to Union lines at Newbern, North
Carolina.

Sheahan mustered out of service in July 1865. Immediately,
he went to Westminster to marry Lizzie, which he accomplished on August 16,
1865. The newlyweds traveled north, where Sheahan enrolled at Maine Medical
College. He graduated in 1867 and then he and Lizzie returned to her home
state, where he practiced medicine. Eventually, John Sheahan switched
professions, taking up a position that I now hold dear. (That is, he became professor
of military history.) John and Lizzie had two sons. They named one of them William
in honor of William Sheahen, who had been killed at Rappahannock Station.

Lizzie died in 1892 and her husband laid her to rest in
Boston. John Sheahen traveled to Cuba, trying to forget his wife and move on,
but apparently, it was no use. He returned to the U.S. in 1894, and he had
barely put his feet upon American soil when he himself died.

As I said, years ago, I found an account that described this
unusual courtship. It had no author, but I have since presumed that
a member of the Shriver family wrote it (probably one of Lizzie’s brothers). It read:

As the years rolled by and he [John P. Sheahen] was engaged
in building air castles, suddenly and unexpectedly the hand of death swept away
from his hearth stone the handsome devoted companion of his early manhood and
mature years. The shock was more than he could bear. Buried there away from his
sight he sought in another clime a change of scene. It was all in vain, upon
reaching Cuba he found that his heart was breaking and that he found that the
end was near. He hurried to return [to the United States] but scarcely an hour
had elapsed after reaching Boston when he was no more. Her body was disinterred
and with his were brought to Westminster and side by side buried in the same
grave in Old Union Cemetery [now Westminster Cemetery]. Recently near them were
laid all that was mortal of the old father—the John Burns of Westminster.

I don’t quite know what to say about this tale. It’s
complex, to be sure. But, I find it interesting that some twenty-seven years of
marriage, life, love, and loss all came about because a friendly girl gave a
tired Union soldier a drink of water. It’s amazing to think that something so
intricate can come from something so simple.

(Here is Lt. John Parris Sheahen, 31st Maine. Probably, this photograph was taken in the spring of 1864.)

1 comment:

Amazing story. I shared it with friend who is a literature prof at McDaniel College in Westminster and uses local themes for many of his writing classes.

Also, the account adds one more data point that makes me think the relationship between escaped Union POWs and slaves in the South would make an interesting research project -- if it hasn't already been done. That relationship seems to play a prominent role in almost all escape stories.